Different
by lost logic
Summary: What do you do when you realize that the life you've lived for so long has changed forever? After the war, Hermione is the only member of the trio to return to Hogwarts. REVISED EDITION. Multiple POVs. Read&Review Please!
1. Chapter 1

Change. All Hermione could see was change. She didn't like it one bit.

Now don't get her wrong, the change was good in most ways (the ministry was being cleaned up, the wizarding world rebuilt) but in several instances, the changes were breaking her heart.

This year would be her last year at Hogwarts. As if that weren't enough, she would be spending it without the two most important people in her life, her best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. It was that change, above all, that was causing her so much pain.

She fought back tears as she looked at those who had come to see her and Ginny off.

Before, they had been friends, but now after all that had happened, she wasn't sure what to categorize them as. Their lives had all become so interwoven over the years. They were better than friends, closer than family. They were hers.

Hermione and Ginny went through the group of people hugging each person in turn. Molly squeezed her tight, whispering to be careful and asking for the hundredth time if she had everything packed; Arthur hugged her as if she was his daughter, telling her that she made them all proud; Fleur hovered, not really sure if she would get a hug until Hermione initiated it; Bill and Charlie hugged her protectively like they had hugged Ginny; George gave her a tight one-armed clasp while winking at Ron; a sloppy cuddle and a huge grin from baby Teddy and a careful, precise one from Andromeda; even a stiff, rather awkward hug from Percy.

Molly sobbed openly as she hugged Ginny again. Hermione had to avert her eyes. Her parents hadn't come. And as much as she loved the Weasleys, it wasn't quite the same.

Noticing how the others had suddenly adopted looks that were far too sympathetic for her liking, Hermione hitched a smile back onto her face. One last hug for green haired Teddy, and then on to the goodbyes she really dreaded.

The tears she had been holding started to fall when she hugged Harry. He patted her on the back and she smiled because it was the exact same kind of hug that he had given her when they were twelve.

"It's ok, Hermione," he soothed gently, "I'll take care of Ron for you."

She chuckled, pulling away.

"You'd better. Please be careful at auror training. _Please_." Her voice started quavering. "I'll miss you."

He grasped her shoulder, smiling sadly. "I'll miss you too, Hermione. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Go be a genius."

He moved aside to speak with Ginny as Ron came forward.

Ron gave her a small smile and raised his arms. Hermione collapsed into them gratefully.

"I can still come," he whispered.

She sighed unhappily. "You need to be here."

He looked at her seriously. "I need _you_, Hermione." He looked down into her eyes. "I love you, did you know that?"

She smiled a true smile this time. "Good. Because I love you."

He kissed her, slowly and tenderly. The kiss grew in intensity until George poked Ron hard in the back of the head and told him to keep it G-rated for Teddy's sake.

Blushing they turned to find nearly everyone on the platform staring at them. Ron sent one glare and the onlookers turned in unison to go about their own business.

Harry started laughing and within seconds the rest of the group had joined in.

Hermione made an impatient noise and turned back to Ron, whose ears were still scarlet.

She raised an eyebrow. "You'll write?"

He looked mildly offended. "Of course I will!" Ron raised his eyebrow mockingly. "You won't work too hard?"

She grinned. "Of course I will."

The train whistle blew.

"I have to go." She whispered, their small moment of light-heartedness gone. She moved towards the door, but turned when he didn't let go of her hand. "Ron…"

He sighed. With a final squeeze he let go. And as cheesy as it sounds, Hermione had never regretted the loss of contact more.

"Goodbye."

Hermione and Ginny found an empty compartment instantly. It had to be some kind of record, Ginny remarked. Hermione replied that is was more likely that the other students didn't quite know what to make of them yet. They hung out the window as the train slowly started to move.

Everyone on the platform started waving simultaneously. Hermione's eyes searched for the group of people she loved best. They were waving their farewells too; even little Teddy was getting in on the action. Harry was yelling goodbye again. Ron, however, was quiet. He took one look at Hermione in the open window and started sprinting after her. He jumped over bags and small children and pushed through throngs of people, who were all ogling him. You couldn't blame them; it was quite impressive, really.

"Ron! What are you doing?" cried Hermione, as he drew level. "You're going to get hurt!"

In one swift moment he jumped up and kissed her quickly. He fell back to catch his breath, grinning.

The last thing Hermione heard as the train pulled out of the station was Ron yelling to her.

"I LOVE YOU, HERMIONE! DON'T FORGET, OK?"

* * *

Ron turned to make his way back slowly. The entire crowd's eyes were on him. Even the parents of the muggleborn students stared. He thought about what he had just done and groaned quietly to himself; he was never going to hear the end of it. Then some one whistled and another person started to applaud. He just kept his eyes on the ground feeling his face, neck, and ears burning. He didn't want attention at the moment. He hadn't meant to cause that much of a scene.

He looked up and groaned again.

Fleur and Mrs. Tonks had tears in their eyes. His mother was sobbing openly about how her little Ronnie was all grown up. His dad was beaming. The rest, however, were laughing their heads off.

They would never let him forget this. They'd tear him apart. Oh Merlin, he could hear the jeers already.

But then he thought of the look Hermione had given him and decided that it was worth it. That maybe all of it had been worth it.

* * *

Back on the train, Hermione sat astonished as Ginny closed the window. She didn't even notice Luna and Neville join them. She didn't register the weird looks she received when she failed to respond to their greetings. She didn't hear Ginny explain. She just sat there, touching her fingertips to her lips softly, mulling over what had happened, trying to decide if it had be real or not.

She sat and she thought. Thinking was what she was good at. It felt nice, natural, to have something to analyze. She had known for a long time that she loved him, and that he loved her, but actually saying it was new—and rather epic, if she did say so herself. Soon all hope of rational thought went out the window and she slipped into daydreams.

Finally, several of Ginny's words broke through. "Well, at least we know what'll be the on the front page tomorrow."

"What?" asked Hermione, telling herself firmly that it was time to join the real world, and wondering why Ginny was laughing. "The removal of the Acromantula from the Forbidden Forest?"

Neville chuckled. "Actually, I think she was referring to yours and Ron's little show."

Hermione groaned. "Which one?"

Luna lowered the newest edition of the quibbler. "Probably both," she said seriously. "All the magazines are going to want angles no one else has. Although, I personally preferred the second one. Much more romantic."

Hermione groaned again, fearing the answer to her question. "There wasn't photographers, was there?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Hermione, dear, where the 'Golden Trio' is, there be the paparazzi."

"Golden Trio?" asked Luna, obviously amused.

Ginny grinned cheekily. "Ah, yes. That's what their _press_ has dubbed them. And why not? Harry Potter, the dashing defeater of Voldemort, and his two best friends, Hermione Granger the Brilliant and Ronald Weasley the Valiant. They've saved the world from evil together since the tender age of eleven, breaking hundreds of laws along the way. Makes sense doesn't it?"

Neville laughed. "And what are _you_ known as to the, ahem, _press_?"

She shrugged. "Right now I'm the 'Chosen One's Chosen One'. But soon enough I shall be, Ginny Weasley: Captain of the Harpies and Chaser Extraordinaire."

Hermione snorted. "Really Ginevra, I think you may have missed your calling. With headlines like those, you could take over for Skeeter."

Ginny hit her with Luna's magazine.

The rest of the trip passed with laughter and gossip, but Hermione knew that something was missing. Or rather, two somethings. And every time someone mentioned Ron or Harry, Hermione's heart constricted painfully.

People crowded their compartment, asking questions, a few even asked for autographs. They eventually became so bothersome that Hermione had to pull the shades and jinx the door so it remained shut. Even the trolley lady had trouble getting through the corridor outside their door.

Hermione sincerely hoped it wouldn't be like this all year. Every mention of the war and its losses was heartrending. She hated that people saw her as a war hero. The real heroes were the ones who had given everything for them, the ones who weren't around to thank but deserved it all the same. They ought to have the recognition, not her.

After a while Neville left to put on his robes. Hermione was silent as she listened to Ginny and Luna's conversation.

"What?"

"I asked you why you were looking at Neville like that." Ginny was smirking.

"Like what?" countered Luna.

"Like he's one of your creatures."

"Oh. Well, I'm not sure," she answered vaguely. "Its just there seems to be something different about him this year. I must ask him if he's been bitten by any gnomes lately… or," she paused thoughtfully, "it could be that he has finally grown into his ears and it's strangely intriguing."

Hermione's eyebrows shot straight up. "His ears?"

Luna shrugged. "I'm not sure which."

Just then Neville knocked and entered the compartment.

Ginny narrowed her eyes as to better focus on him. "Yes, I see what you mean Luna, they do fit now."

Luna nodded dreamily. Hermione grinned whilst Neville looked on, bewildered.

* * *

Hermione stepped from the train struggling with Crookshanks' basket. It seemed that during the year he had spent with the Weasley's he'd gotten a lot heavier. She wondered briefly just what they had been feeding him.

"HERMIONE!" Hagrid swooped down and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

Hermione laughed. Hagrid, at least, was the same as ever.

"How ya been? I'm so glad ya decided ta come! Betcha can't wait ta see the castle, it's lookin' jus' as good as ever!" He winked and pulled Ginny into a bear hug. "An' how's the chosen one's chosen?" Hermione laughed again as Ginny was lifted from the ground.

Hagrid let Ginny down and addressed them both. "I'll talk ta you lot later, I gotta get the firs' years settled in."

Hermione smiled at the sight of the half-giant herding all the miniscule first years away from the rest of the crowd. "I missed him," She told Ginny, "Quite a bit."

Ginny grinned. "How could you not?"

The good mood lasted until they arrived at the carriages.

Thestrals.

She could see them.

Well, it wasn't as if it was a surprise. She knew about Thestrals, she knew what had to happen for you to see them, she knew she had seen death—too much of it— but seeing, _actually seeing_, them, reminded her of all the things she'd stupidly thought she could put behind her.

Hermione thought back to when they had first learned about the Thestrals. When she had foolishly said that she wished she could see them.

Her mother's singsong voice filled her head. The age old adage "be careful what you wish for" played over and over, mocking her, but Hermione couldn't find enough energy to be angry.

Instead, a tear slid down her cheek.

Hermione didn't know how long she stood there with Ginny, remembering. She vaguely registered Luna and Neville coming to stand beside them and heard the voices of thousands of other students whispering about them amongst themselves, garbled and distorted, as if under water. How stupid she had been to try and forget.

And suddenly, the four of them were the only ones left.

Luna gently shook Ginny's still form, waking her from her thoughts.

Neville put his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Come on, Hermione. We missed the carriages, we'll have to hurry if we don't want to be late."

Hermione just nodded, still immersed in her nightmares. Silent, the four teenagers began the long walk to the castle.

Everywhere she looked the memories assaulted her. There was the spot she, Ron, Harry had been attacked by dementors. She pictured lights of all colours flashing about her, striking down friend and foe alike as she picked her way though the crowd. And there, there was where she had been standing when she'd discovered Tonks' still form still tightly clasped to Remus' unmoving hand. She couldn't breath, she couldn't see. The awful feelings and smells and sounds swirled around her and the only thing that kept her moving, the only thing that tied her to reality, was Neville's warm arm around her shoulders, moving steadily forward and keeping her from falling.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was worried. Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood had yet to show up.

She was so worried she couldn't focus on the sorting ceremony. It wasn't exactly the best way to start off her first year as Headmistress, but Minerva couldn't help it. Her mind kept coming up with horrible reasons for why the four would be late. The more she tried to reassure herself, the more panicked she became.

It was so bad that by the time Zwicker, Timothy was being sorted, she had to resist the urge to call a search party. She hated worrying, but she loved her students. And many a time over the past few years she had agonized over the safety of these particular ones. Agonized, but been able to do nothing.

They were young and strong and smart. They had come to know horrors many could never imagine and had dealt with them better than anyone else could, but maybe that was why Minerva felt she had to protect them more than ever. Maybe she wanted (needed) to make up for what she hadn't been able to do in the past.

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Minerva felt her whole being loosen. They were okay. They were pale and drawn. Hermione was clearly leaning heavily on Neville and Ginny was clasping Luna's hand so tightly that Minerva was worried it would break, but they were okay; they were safe. She finally allowed herself to breathe properly again.

* * *

Hermione was exceedingly angry herself up for not thinking this through properly.

Every eye in the Great Hall, living and non-living, was on the four friends. Quickly and quietly, Hermione led the way towards Gryffindor table. Luna followed, mostly because Ginny still had her hand in a death grip, but partly because she felt that the house system had failed them in the past. Immediately room was cleared for them. Kids jumped up and asked if they needed anything and Nearly Headless Nick tried to start a loud conversation using their first names and saying things like "How is our dear mutual friend Harry?" and "What about Ron? I always felt we were kindred spirits, Ron and I." Neville silenced him with a shake of his head, but the damage was done.

Hermione could hardly bear to look up from the table.

Thankfully, Professor McGonagall chose that moment to start with the beginning of term notices. Hermione didn't notice that she got an extra loud cheer when her head-girl ship was announced. She didn't notice when people talked to her. She didn't notice when the feast ended. She didn't know why this was happening. All she wanted to do was go back to being regular, boring, bookworm Hermione.

Non-famous Hermione had been happier.

* * *

Review? Review. Review! Disclaimer: It's not really mine, I just like to borrow things.


	2. Chapter 2

_The first thing he noticed were the immense portraits._

_The images of the lost stared down at him as if he were something disgusting, hardly worthy of the air he breathed. The Potters, Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, and Fred were the largest of the bunch; their faces twisted with hatred._

_The second thing he saw were the people beneath the portraits._

_Harry, Ginny, his parents, Professor McGonagall and George stood side-by-side, alternately glaring at him and glancing up at their ornately framed companions._

_A sudden movement from the corner caught his eye. Hermione._

_She looked different, unwell. Her hands shook as she pushed her hair from her face revealing a heartbreaking expression and delicate trembling features._

_Ron noticed that she was looking right past him._

_He turned, wondering what was holding her attention. He gulped as the reason stepped from the shadows._

_Bellatrix looked exactly as he remembered her; cold, pale, and dangerously unbalanced. _

"_Oh, hello," her eyes narrowed slightly as they fell on Hermione, "Come back to play, Mudblood?"_

_Ron felt paralyzed. Hermione shuddered visibly as Bellatrix smiled cruelly, pointing her wand slowly and deliberately at Hermione's chest. _

"_And this time your all alone, too" she continued, shaking her head mockingly, "didn't your blood traitor tell you how dangerous it is to go out alone? That I would find you?" Her grin widened, "Or did he leave you again?"_

"_She's not alone!" Ron yelled, struggling to shift his feet. "I'm right here!"_

_Neither of the women gave any sign of hearing him._

"_Where is he?" Bellatrix sneered, "You're supposed love? Did wittle Wonnie get scawed? Say he left." _

"_I'm right here!" He shouted, as Hermione stared obstinately into Bellatrix's thin face._

"_What's that?" continued Bellatrix, "He didn't leave?" Her sickly smile twisted into a snarl. "Just say it, Mudblood. I can see it in your eyes; you know it's true. He's gone and he's not coming back. Now you say it."_

_Hermione shook her head._

"_Say it! Crucio!"_

_Ron again tried to run forward and was again impeded._

_Hermione's screams caused him physical pain—they went on forever. Desperate, he turned to Harry and the others._

"_Harry, why the hell aren't you doing anything?" he cried as Hermione screamed again, "Help me get to her!"_

_Harry kept glaring but did not respond._

_Ron grabbed his arm. "What the bloody—Harry! Ginny!" In the blink of an eye, the others had vanished and reappeared as portraits._

_Now more panicked then ever, he turned back to the suddenly silent Hermione, desperate to get to her._

"_Hermione, just hold on!"_

"_Where is he? Crucio!"_

"_I'm right here! Take me instead!"_

"_Stop, please!"_

"_Just say it!" _

"_I'm right here!" cried Ron, "Right here, Hermione!"_

_More tears flooded down her cheeks as Hermione looked away from Bellatrix's gleaming countenance. "R-Ron's gone. He's n-never coming back. He doesn't… d-doesn't love me."_

_Bellatrix grinned triumphantly. "Good Mudblood. Now, that wasn't so hard was it?"_

_Hermione's eyes remained downcast and Bellatrix raised her wand higher._

"_NO! I'M RIGHT HERE! RIGHT HERE! TAKE ME INSTEAD!"_

_A burst of green light and hysterical laughter._

"_HERMIONE!"_

And just like that, he was back in his room, on his bed, sobbing like a child.

A dream. Just another stupid dream.

A hand reached out of the darkness. With lightning speed Ron drew his wand, pointing it at the intruder's throat.

The intruder, he now realized, that was his mother.

"Sorry." He muttered, putting his wand away, still trying to slow his racing pulse. _Had he shouted again? How much had she heard? _He wiped his eyes just as his father, George, and Harry crashed though the door.

"What's wrong?" panted Arthur, looking from his wife to his son, "Molly?"

Harry lowered his wand at the same moment Ron lowered his gaze. Ron hated crying in front of the others.

"I'm going from a walk." He stated gruffly, untangling his feet from the blankets.

"Do you want to talk—?"

"No." He interrupted his mother forcefully, wincing at his harsh tone. "I just—no. I can't. Not now."

Without further ado, he pushed past a bewildered George and bounded out of the room, down the steps, into the garden.

* * *

Back inside, Harry was being made a cup of tea by the older Weasleys. Pushing the steaming cup towards him, Molly sat down and took a drink of her own before starting.

"Harry, dear…"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Do you think you could ask Ron to talk to us? We're worried. It just can't go on like this, he's going to make himself sick."

Harry sighed deeply. "Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, I'm sorry. It's Ron's choice to tell you. He will when he's ready."

Mr. Weasley glanced in his wife's direction before turning to Harry. "We realize that, but it's not just Ron. How many nights was it you? Or Hermione?" He shook his head solemnly, remembering their cries. "I think it's high time we knew what exactly you three were doing this past year."

Harry sighed again, trying to decide how to best handle his predicament. He should have seen this coming. At last, he said, "I can't."

Mrs. Weasley's eyebrows all but disappeared into her hairline. "Can't? Harry, dear, we have a right to know."

Harry looked down at the worn wooden table as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged significant glances over the top of his head. He felt rather like he was being interrogated like in those old police movies Aunt Marge had demanded they all watch so long ago. "The thing is, well, I know I don't like remembering what happened at all. I know Ron and Hermione will agree with me on that. And really, it's not just my story to tell."

"Well, then, we'll just get you all together to tell us. We need the whole story."

Harry stared up at Mrs. Weasley, barely concealing his incredulousness; she really didn't get it. "Mrs. Weasley, no offence, but you don't understand. We lost pieces of ourselves, or, at least I did. Retelling it will be losing them again. Things can never be the same again; _we'll_ never be the same. It's just—" he sighed. "It _hurts_ to remember, Mrs. Weasley."

He saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes and felt worse instantly.

Her voice was so quiet when she next spoke that Harry had to strain to hear it. "You're right; I don't understand. That's what I'm trying to do." Her chin quavered for a moment before she hitched on a watery smile. "Come on now, it's late. You've got auror training in the morning, best be off to bed." She absently tried to smooth his hair before saying goodnight to her husband and returning upstairs.

Harry buried his head in his hands.

"She means well," Mr. Weasley's voice came from somewhere on Harry's left. "Really, she does. She doesn't know where all the time went and how you, Ron, and Hermione grew up with out her noticing. She doesn't understand why you three had to leave without saying goodbye; she—_we_ don't understand why the Order couldn't have done whatever you had to. We just want to know why you three are the ones who have the worst nightmares, and why we can't help you. We just want to help."

Harry gave a wry smile. "Anything other than that?"

He smiled wearily. "I want you to stop calling me Mr. Weasley. It's Arthur. Other than that, we both just want you all to be happy and live your lives."

Harry nodded and stood. "I'll see what I can do about that, Mr.—Arthur."

"Good. Don't stay up too late, now. Your first day will be hard enough without sleep deprivation."

Harry watched Mr. Weasley as he climbed the stairs before heading out into the night to find Ron.

* * *

Hermione awoke to inky darkness. Rising early had become a habit over the past months, just as it was habit to sleep with her wand under her pillow.

She reached and pulled it out, a nostalgic feeling coming over her. It was a good wand; powerful and pretty, although she supposed she was rather biased. She ran her fingers along its side affectionately; they had been though a lot together. And although Hermione would never admit it, she often felt as if her wand had been her first friend in the magical world.

The last year had damaged it—added new scratches and wore off its old luster, just as it had with her. The only missing piece to the metaphor was that whilst the wand wood was damaged, the core had remained whole. Hermione wished she could say the same.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione put her wand down and began getting ready. As she stumbled around the almost empty room, she experienced a brief qualm. Why was she putting herself through this? Why in the world hadn't she taken Kingsley's job offer?

She was shoving her books into her bag when she remembered. She was here because it was what she had always anticipated. It was what was normal, expected of her.

Satisfied, she left her room, shutting the door decisively behind her.

It wasn't until she was on her way to breakfast an hour and a half later that the real reason struck her.

Hermione had stayed because she didn't know where else to go.

* * *

"Where were you this morning? I was knocking on your door forever!"

Hermione looked up her toast as Ginny plopped down beside her on the bench. "Sorry, I went to the library."

Neville came over, his eyebrows raised. "Why?"

Ginny smiled up at him. "Are you new here? That's what Hermione does."

Neville looked sheepish. "Oh, right. I forgot. So what's new at the library?"

"The Carrows destroyed half the books while they were here." She sighed. "Honestly, Madam Pince is going mad trying to find replacements for everything." She looked at her friends hopefully, "Would you two like to help us? You can just do re-binding and shelving, it's easy."

Ginny bit her lip nervously, "Well, the thing is…" she elbowed Neville covertly.

"Ow! What was that—oh. Yeah, Hermione, actually…hey, look the mail!"

Hermione turned in her seat, looking at the decisively owl-free ceiling. "What?"

Ginny sighed in relief when ten seconds later the first barn owl swooped in and dropped the Prophet in front of Hermione.

"Oh no."

"What?"

Hermione handed over the paper wordlessly. Ginny looked down to see several photographs and what looked like a detailed description of the events.

"Looks like you were right, Ginny." Remarked Neville, "Front page news."

"Oh look, there's me and Harry. Hey, the even got Teddy in!"

"Marvelous."

Neville looked thoughtful. "You know, 69.4% of witches right now are glaring in you're direction."

"Only 69.4?" asked Ginny, laughing.

Hermione looked around the hall. "Umm, why?"

"It may have something to do with Harry and Ron being named the most eligible bachelors in_ Witch Weekly_."

"Ok, one, they're not bachelors, and two, Neville, why in the name of Merlin were you reading _Witch Weekly?_"

He blushed and muttered something about his grandmother. Ginny didn't look too convinced.

Luna appeared beside Hermione. "He was probably checking his standings."

Ginny looked delighted. "You placed too?"

"Eighth place, if I remember correctly." Luna answered. "Right after Oliver Wood."

Ginny nearly fell off the bench snorting with laughter. Neville just blushed harder.

For one wonderful moment Hermione felt like laughing too. Really laughing, not the fake titter that had had replaced the old one as soon as she had left the Burrow. She smiled to herself and sat back to watch her friends tease each other, reveling in the feeling. Her last thought before she went back to her toast was how glad she was that even if Neville had somehow become the wizarding equivalent of a rock star, some things would never change.

* * *

Talk to me! Tell me if you like it! Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. Hard to imagine, I know.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was excited. That much, Ginny could tell. What she failed to comprehend was _why_. Honestly, it was just a transfiguration class.

To be fair, it was a transfiguration class with a mysterious new professor and an exceedingly complicated curriculum, but still, it was just another class.

Merlin, the poor girl was practically bouncing in her seat.

"Hermione, clam down."

Her friend's hair flew as she turned sharply. "I am calm." Her defiant expression turned sheepish at the look Ginny gave her. "Ok, so maybe I'm a little excited. But really, how could I not be?"

Ginny could think of several reasons.

But Hermione had already started spouting off an explanation. "It's the first class of the semester, not to mention our last year. I don't know about you, but I've been looking forward to seventh year transfiguration since first year. Do you have any idea the kind of stuff we get to do? Third degree human transfiguration! Not to mention we have a new professor. I mean, of course I'd rather still have Professor McGonagall, but still, it'll be fascinating to see how his style differs from McGonagall's, and—"

"Back up." Ginny was intrigued. "How do you know the professor is a he?"

"Luna told me, but that's not important. What's important is that—"

Ginny turned to Luna. "How did you know?"

Luna smiled serenely. "I pay attention to my surroundings."

"So do I!" She stopped to think. "Well actually, I don't, do I? I should probably start…"

Hermione sighed and gave up.

* * *

"He's actually, surprisingly, truly competent."

The three friends had just left transfiguration and were heading to charms.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Did you think McGonagall would hire a troll?"

"Have you forgotten Lockhart?" Ginny laughed, "Although he was definitely better looking than a troll…"

Luna was skipping alongside them, a pensive look on her face. "I didn't mind Lockhart; he discussed the colony of Blibbering Humdingers he found in Germany with me quite frequently. Of course, everyone knows that they're indigenous to Great Britain, but it's the thought that counts."

Hermione decided that there was no point in arguing that the Blubbering Whatevers couldn't be indigenous to anywhere, seeing as they didn't exist. Instead, she bid her friends farewell and headed to potions alone.

* * *

Hermione didn't know what she had been expecting from Slughorn, but this was not it.

In sixth year his favoritism had been annoying, but bearable. Now he was downright insufferable.

She had hardly gotten through the door before he had waddled up and seized both her hands.

"Hermione, dear! How long it has been!" His face was within inches of hers, a thought that gave her no comfort whatsoever. "I was ever so surprised when the Headmistress informed me of your continued studies; I figured you'd want to get a leg up at the ministry. I could pull a few strings…"

He seemed to take her indignant look the wrong way. "But of course you don't need me! I suppose what with being friends with Harry rather ups your status doesn't it? Oho, I'm sure Kingsley has his eye on you! What with your brains and acquaintances you'd be unstoppable! I'll be sure to drop him a line. Kingsley was always one of my favourites, you know. Never all that great at potions, but I always knew that boy would go places. I remember the time…"

And with that, Hermione went about actively ignoring a professor for the first time in her life. With any luck it wouldn't be like this all year; already she could see the scathing looks from several classmates in the background.

* * *

The wind that ruffled Ron's hair held the promise of wintry temperatures to come. He shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself, glancing covertly at his companion.

George looked lost. Something in Ron stirred seeing his brother looking so diminished. The funeral had been hard on everyone, but this—this was much more complex. Before they had stood beside each other and mourned a death; now they were faced with even more proof of the actual absence.

Ron wasn't sure he was the right guy for the job.

To be back where Fred had lived—_lived_— would be hard enough for him, but for George? It had to be ten times worse. And Ron knew he deserved someone who could understand, someone who knew what to say. How many times had Hermione berated him for his tactlessness? Shouldn't people know by now that he was barely capable of dealing with his own feelings, let alone someone else's?

George cleared his throat and when he spoke his voice was thick with the emotion that Ron dreaded. "Do you have the keys?"

Ron nodded and handed them over. "Listen, George, are you…?" He let his voice trail off pointlessly.

George's forced smile was more of a grimace. "Of course I'm sure, mate." His air of false bravado was painful for them both. "Can't keep skirting around it forever now can I?" He turned his back on Ron. He stood trying to open the door for five minutes before Ron gently took the ring of keys from his violently shaking hands.

Inside was a pale imitation of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes that Ron had known. The only thing that looked as it had when he had last visited were the posters; still garishly coloured, still proclaiming their risqué jokes, still advertising products boldly, and stillshowcasing their creators beaming faces.

Ron took one look at them and wondered how long it had been since George had laughed like that. Full of joy, full of life. Who stood before him now wasn't the brother he'd grown up alongside. This man was broken and empty.

George's voice was hollow. "I'm going upstairs."

As Ron watched him drag himself up the stairs he wished he could say what he felt. He wished he could tell George that he wasn't as alone as he thought, that he missed Fred too, felt his and the others' absences weighing on him with every breath. Tell him that he was here for him. Tell him that he loved him.

Instead he turned back to the empty store. "I'll clean up down here, then."

Not for the first time, he wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a dreadful mistake.

* * *

Hermione didn't know why Ginny wasn't more excited. But then again, she never could quite understand Ron and Harry's aversion to classes either. As for her, she was happy. She loved the fact that she knew what she was doing again. Loved having a set schedule, books to read, experiments to do, questions to answer. She loved knowing what came next.

This rediscovered structure in her life almost allowed her to pretend the time when nothing had been certain or set, when you could die in the next minute, when you didn't know where your next meal was coming from, or when it was coming, had ever been the custom.

She reveled in the normalcy of it all.

Rejoining Ginny, Luna and Neville for Defense Against the Dark Arts, she once again did her best to not let the stares of the other students in the hallways bother her. She was used to Harry getting the inquiring, admiring, and some times unkind glances, and truthfully she'd never really know until now just how uncomfortable it was.

She was unspeakably glad when they finally reached the classroom.

Until about three minutes in.

"She's absolutely worthless!"

The small group had left the DADA classroom in silence. As usual, Ginny had been the first to make her feelings known.

Hermione glanced uneasily at the cluster of seventh year boys glaring in their direction. "Keep it down, Ginny. The last thing we need is an angry mob."

Ginny threw up her hands exasperatedly. "Honestly, so maybe she's ok-looking, but...augh! How could McGonagall hire her? She's awful! She treats us like we're two! It's sickening! She gives us redheads a bad name! She…she…"

"She was the only qualified applicant." Luna put in quietly, searching for something in her bag. "Hold this, will you?"

Ginny snorted as she held out her hands for several brightly coloured toadstools and an assortment of shoelaces. "She can't have been the _only_ one. Seriously, _I'm _more qualified than that. It's Lockhart all over again. Only this time round, he's got the body of a bloody veela!"

"Darrin Donahue certainly was enthralled, he drooled on my notes." Luna, still untangling the shoelaces, didn't seem to hear Neville's snort of laughter.

"Ginny you know we agree with you. But honestly, do you think complaining is going to change anything?"

Ginny looked sullen. "No."

"Exactly." Hermione watched Luna jam the fungi back into her bag.

Ginny still wasn't satisfied. "But come on! Seriously, can't we have a half-decent DA teacher one year? Just one? How is it that we've never had a good teacher for that class?"

"Remus." Hermione's chin started to tremble. How wrong was it that with one statement a perfectly good day could be turned black? How was it that one question made Hermione want to retreat into a safe place, and never come out? "We had Remus, Ginny. And I don't know about you, but I thought he was a damn sight better than half-decent."

Luna and Neville's eyes were large and round, they swiveled ceaselessly between a horrified Ginny and the visibly crumbling Hermione.

"I-I forgot. Remus—How? I f-forgot…"

"That's the problem, Gin. We can't forget; we can never forget any of them. Because if we don't remember them, who will? You should know that better than anyone." Hermione turned on her heel and left her silent friends behind. She needed quiet; she needed a place to be alone, a place to escape.

* * *

Three and a half hours later, Ron was running out of things to do. He repaired everything in sight, scourgified every surface, stacked the shelves with what merchandise was left in the back room, washed the windows, dusted, and did every little thing he could think of twice, and time still passed too quickly.

If only Filch could see him now. The old git would probably have a heart attack, witnessing Ron Weasley looking for more cleaning. Actually, he might get an Order of Merlin for that, or at least a nomination…certainly the students of Hogwarts would be eternally grateful…

He shook his head laughing slightly, before his gaze landed on the staircase. All thoughts of murdering Argus Filch with cleanliness were immediately gone.

If he had been down here for three and a half hours what had George been doing alone for that long?

Damn.

He bounded up the stairs two at a time. How could he have been so thoughtless, leaving his brother like that? Had he been completely passed over when they were giving out brains?

George, he had to find George.

Ron turned the corner and found him sitting on the edge of a bed, face in his hands. Upon further review he found that it was Fred's room they were standing in and any semblance of relief was replaced with the intense worry and grief that had become so familiar.

"George?"

"I bet he's laughing."

"What…?"

"I bet Fred is sitting up there laughing his ass off at me. He's probably having a Firewhisky with Sirius and watching us right now, having a good old laugh. Talking about how stupid we are to be so sad."

"George, that's crazy. He's not—He wouldn't laugh."

George turned to face Ron, "Of course he is! Probably telling everyone he knows how we've turned into such pansies. He might even be telling them he's not related."

"Fred wouldn't do that."

"Why not? We both did it in Hogwarts!" George shook his head. "He's probably telling all his buddies that we're not his brothers, 'cause his brothers we great heroes, great men. That their sacrifice saved the world."

Ron was angry now. "What? Is that what you think? That just because we didn't die, we didn't help? George, you know what we all did. You know we would have died for this. _Fred_ knew that. And he would never, _ever _be ashamed of that; he loved us. He loved _you_, George!"

"Than why the hell did he leave?"

"It wasn't a choice! Wake up! He's gone, but he's part of the reason we're still here! Part of the reason that Voldemort is dead and people aren't being hunted like animals! He's part of the reason we still have a future, George!"

George didn't answer, but Ron couldn't stop shouting.

"And you're right! I bet he is denying that he's related to us right now, I know I would! Just look at us! We're afraid to live our lives! The lives that he and Sirius and Remus and Tonks and Dumbledore and the rest fought for us to have! God, I'm bloody _mortified_ for us all!" He stood there, breathing heavily, instantly regretting his actions.

"Get out."

"George…I—"

"Are you just going to stand there? I said get the hell out."

"Fine." He paused at the door. "It's not just you. We all miss him, you know. It's difficult for you, but it's bad for other people too. Have you seen how Mum's constantly on the verge of tears? How much weight Dad's lost? How Ginny winces whenever she walks past your old room? Think about that George." And then Ron left, his brother staring blankly at the wall.

Ron felt horribly guilty as he walked up the street. He bent his head so no one could recognize him. Ron walked on, extremely aware of the absence of the two people who had always stood beside him in times such as this; the two people who always knew what to do or what to say; the two people who had become more than best friends, but a brother and the girl he loved more than life.

He disgusted himself, he really did. How could he stand to tell George to stop being so selfish when he wanted nothing more than for his friends to drop everything and come be with him? Leave their dreams and plans, because Ron _missed_ them.

He jammed his hands into his pockets, trying his best to ignore the pounding rhythm that sounded with every step he took.

Hypocrite

Hypocrite

Hypocrite

It merged with the throbbing of his heart, the swiftness of his breathing.

Hypocrite

Hypocrite

Hypocrite

_Hypocrite._

_

* * *

_Ok, so here's the deal. If there's interest in the story, I'll keep her going, If not, well, I'll just quit while I'm ahead. But the thing is, you lot have got to tell me what you want. You've got the power and I always love constructive critisim. Disclaimer: Nope, not fabulously wealthy. Sorry, it's not mine.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was horribly, terribly frightened. And, quite frankly, very confused.

One moment he had simply been enjoying a bit of fried egg, quietly thankful for the reprieve from auror training that Saturday morning brought, and the next he had a handful of baby. Or, to be more precise, two handfuls of multi-coloured, squirmy baby.

He looked up with eyes as wide as saucers to find a satisfied looking Molly and an anxious Andromeda Tonks.

"A-are you sure he'll be alright, Molly?" she asked quietly.

Molly nodded. "Teddy will be just fine, dear. And Harry has hardly spent any time with him at all, have you Harry?" She smiled kindly. "It's time Teddy got to know his godfather."

Andromeda's mouth was a thin line as she surveyed the bit of egg that was smeared on Harry's chin, and saw just how pale he had turned. "I wasn't talking about Teddy…"

Molly turned and gave Andromeda a look that was not unlike the ones she frequently gave her children. "You listen to me, Andromeda Tonks," she began firmly, "Teddy is nearly seven months old. You have not been away from that child for more than an hour since he was born." She took Andromeda's hands in her own. "You_ need_ this. _Teddy_ needs this. Harry will be fine."

"But what if—"

"No, no 'what if's. It will be fine."

"But Molly, I—"

"_Fine_. Now go." And with that she pushed Andromeda through the open door. Then she glanced at Harry.

"I mean it, dear. Everything _will_ be fine." And in a whirl of colour, Molly Weasley was gone, leaving Harry all alone.

Harry looked at Teddy. Teddy looked at Harry. Harry gulped.

"…Ron?"

* * *

Ron bounded down the stairs, towards Harry. "Yeah, mate? Did you leave me any breakfast—" He stopped short. "Wha…?"

"I know," said Harry.

"But – But we were going to play quidditch."

"I know," said Harry.

Ron hurried to the front door and peered out into to yard. "They've gone!" he cried. "They've actually left us in charge of a _human being_!"

"I know," said Harry

"It's a bit of a stretch from yesterday when she didn't trust us to do the de-gnomeing properly, innit?"

"Quite."

"Sooo…" Ron started slowly. He stared at Teddy who was now chewing on his own hand. "What are we going to do with him?"

Teddy pressed a drool-drenched palm to the lens of Harry's glasses, making sure to smear a good bit of the mushy cereal that clung to his sleeve on them. Harry shrugged. "I have absolutely no idea. What does one do with a baby?"

"Feed it, maybe?"

"Andromeda said he just ate."

"Oh." Ron scratched his head. "And we're sure he's too young for Quidditch?"

Harry shot Hermione's patented 'Oh dear Merlin, please tell me you aren't that stupid' look over the rim of his glasses.

Ron put his hands up in defense. "Ok, ok. It was just a suggestion, no need to get your wand in a knot!"

In the end, they ended up heading outside to the garden. Teddy seemed quite content to roll around on the blanket they had brought with them and blow spit bubbles at the plush lion toy Harry had found in his bag. This, Ron pointed out, was perfect; the Cannons were playing Puddlemere United and the wireless could easily be set between them on the ground. They could watch Teddy and have quality Quidditch time simultaneously. Really, sometimes he amazed himself.

In was nearing eleven when Harry suddenly sat up with a startled look. "Did you hear that?"

Ron was supremely unconcerned as he took the lid off another butterbeer. "Hear what, mate?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. "That. Listen."

Ron turned down the wireless and was silent for a moment. "…I don't hear anything. You're loosing it, Harry. I don't kn—"

_Hic_

They both turned abruptly to the source of the noise. Teddy.

_Hic_

Teddy's shoulders shook slightly at the force of his hiccup. Ron snorted. "It's just the hiccups. He'll be fine in a moment."

Harry looked worried. "But shouldn't we… I dunno, do something?"

"Like what? Make him hold his breath?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Ron laughed, "Oh yeah, that'd be a great scene for Mum and Mrs. Tonks to come home to." He rolled his eyes, "Us practically smothering the baby."

Harry sighed, frustrated. "Well, not holding his breath then. What else do you do for hiccups?"

"Seriously Harry, calm down. They'll go away in a minute, I swear. He'll be fine."

But when half an hour had passed and Teddy was still hiccupping, even Ron had to admit he was a little worried.

Teddy, now tired because he had missed his morning nap and supremely agitated due to the strange phenomena constantly racking his small frame, began to wail.

After twenty minutes of failed attempts to humor the child and cure his hiccups, including an ill conceived lullaby by Harry and copious tablespoons of sugar, Ron put his foot down.

"That's it," he said, raising his voice above Teddy's cries. "There's nothing for it, we've got to find Mum and Andromeda."

Harry looked as if he too was on the verge of tears. "What? No!" He shook his head emphatically, still rocking Teddy ferociously. "Ron, they'll never trust us with him again!"

At this point, Ron didn't quite understand how that was a problem.

"He's my godson, Ron. He needs me." He looked at the green haired infant in his arms. "I need him."

Ron rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Ok, I get it," he sighed. "What do you propose we do?"

Harry's face lit up. "Hermione!"

Ron turned quickly, hardly daring to believe it.

"Oh. No, sorry Ron, she's not here, I meant she'll know what to do."

Ron rolled his eyes.  
"Yes, brilliant plan, Harry, except for the fact that, as you pointed out, she's not here."

Harry smiled slyly adopting a mystical sort of voice that he couldn't help but associate with Sybil Trelawney. "Ah yes, my friend, but you forget: _Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it_."

Ron sighed again. "I'll get the nappy bag."

"Don't forget Joey!"

"_Joey?_"

"The lion, Ron."

"The li— oh, right."

* * *

Hermione had experienced a perfectly normal morning. She had awoken early as always, gone down to the library to help Madam Pince as always, and then had headed to class with Ginny as always. She wondered if it could be classified as a good thing that all the staring and the whispers hardly fazed her anymore. In any case, Hermione hardly noticed the students chatter as she made her way to the prefects meeting.

Things had generally gone smoothly in the few first weeks of her headgirlship. Aside from having a few disciplinary issues to look after (it had come to her attention that the 6th year Ravenclaw prefects had been using their nightly rounds as an excuse to become better acquainted in several deserted classrooms) she hadn't really had much to deal with. Such were the joys of delegating, she supposed.

The only thing that bothered her about her new position was the obvious hate with which Erica Butler regarded her. She had learnt from Ginny that Erica had been slated to be head girl before Hermione had announced her intention of returning to school. Hermione, who was used to being disliked, nevertheless avoided the younger girl's gaze, quite unnerved by the unadulterated loathing she would find there.

To top things off, her headaches had been getting much worse. They had started at Shell Cottage after the incident with Bellatrix. Back then, Hermione had been sure that they were just the after affects of the curse and that they would eventually fade. She had been wrong. The last one had been so strong that she had blacked out and awoken hours later at the Owlry, uncertain of how she had gotten there and so completely terrified that for a moment she hadn't been able to remember her own name.

Hermione shook her head, hoping to rid herself of some of the pain. When it didn't work, she exhaled sharply, annoyed at her weakness, and hurried to the Great Hall for lunch. Neville had mentioned a new article in the Prophet about giants he thought she would like.

Lunch was progressing normally enough, what with Ginny ranting on about the horrible state of this year's Gryffindor Quidditch team, Neville searching his bag frantically for the newspaper article he had mentioned and Luna floating over from the Ravenclaw table to tell them the story of the new creature she had discovered in the back of greenhouse five.

"…I put it right here, I know I did…"

"– He can't even fly properly! I have no idea how he expects to be able to block shots – "

"It looked like a cross between a plimpy and a mandrake, although I'm not quite sure yet just how that would work…"

Hermione smiled happily to herself.

Suddenly there was a great crashing bang from the other side of the Great Hall's large oak doors. Several students screamed and Hermione spun, pulling her wand from her sleeve fluidly. She vaguely registered the others following suit. She stood, poised for attack; every muscle straining as the door slowly creaked open.

She nearly dropped her wand.

There stood her two best friends. They looked awful. Both were splattered with what Hermione sincerely hoped was strained peas, Ron had a nappy bag swung over his shoulder and seemed to be throttling a stuffed lion, and Harry was frantically rocking a screaming baby with fire engine red hair. The two of them looked like them were about to cry themselves.

"Hermione?" Harry cried desperately in the dead silence of the hall. "Hermione, where are you?"

Hermione finally got over her shock and hurried forward. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Harry thrust the baby towards her, obviously begging her to take him. "Teddy has the hiccups," he sniffed. Behind him Ron nodded for emphasis. "He has them really bad."

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes as she cradled the infant to her chest. "Hiccups. _Really_. Honestly, you two. Deatheaters are no problem, but god forbid a baby start to cry!"

The boys began to protest but Hermione simply raised a hand and they fell silent. She began to pace, gently humming softly and cooing to Teddy. Soon enough, the exhausted boy had fallen asleep.

"How do you do that?" Ron whispered reverently.

"Do what?"

"_That_," answered Harry, seemingly in awe. "He's _actually_ asleep."

"Well, I did used to babysit back home, you know" she answered.

"Natural instinct," declared Ginny as she arrived beside the little group. "And we might want to move this outside."

It was then that Hermione remembered that they were not at the Burrow, but in the Great Hall and that thousands of eyes were upon them. She blushed furiously. Yes, the sooner they got out of there the better.

* * *

Sometime later, when Teddy had been laid down for his nap in Hagrid's humongous bed, hiccups now merely a memory, and Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were visiting with their half-giant friend, it occurred to Ron that Hermione was being unusually quiet. He stood and excused himself, stating that he fancied a walk should she like to join him.

Hand in hand, they waked towards the lake, pausing at the water's edge to watch the Giant Squid sun himself.

"Ok," he said, "What's wrong?"

"Ron, nothing's wrong-"

"Don't lie, Hermione," he interrupted, "You don't have to pretend for me."

And so they lay back in the grass and she told him. She told him about the stares and the gossip. She told him about Slughorn's favoritism and the how awful the new DADA professor truly was. She told him how she has so discouraged by the destruction in the library, about how she hated that Erica hated her. She told him about yelling at Ginny and the guilt that had followed. She told him of her horror at slowly learning just what had happened to the students at Hogwarts the year they had been gone. About how much she had missed Harry and the family. How much she had missed him.

He, in turn, spoke of his fight with George and the crushing weight the encounter had left with him. He told her about his parents, how his mother was trying so desperately to claw her way out of depression, trying to act normally and be brave, only to collapse into grief again with one glance at the family clock. About his father who stoically got up and went to work everyday, determined to make a better world, only to return each day a little diminished, eyes red and swollen beneath his glasses. About his worries for Harry. About how much he loved her.

She smiled up at him softly. "And the nightmares?"

Ron swallowed. "Practically the same. Yours?"

She sighed. "The same."

"The headaches?" he ventured tentatively.

"Much better."

Ron was not fooled. "You should ask Madam Pomfrey about it."

Hermione ignored him and he, for once, took the hint. "Fine." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Let's get back to Hagrid's. Harry must be going spare, Mum and Andromeda'll probably be home any minute."

Hermione laughed. "Isn't it great?" she said happily.

"What?"

"Harry can sacrifice himself for the good of mankind, he can face evil without showing a bit of fear – and then you hand him a baby and he goes completely nuts." She pulled him towards Hagrid's. "It just makes me happy. It seems so normal."

Ron laughed and kissed her. "Yeah, normal. That's the exact word I'd use to describe Harry."

* * *

A/N: So a lighthearted chapter to make up for the fact that I'm rather negligent when it comes to chapter fics. If people are willing to read this, I honestly will try to update more frequently - just keep in mind that as it's summer I'm currently working like 40+ hours a week in preperation for University in September. Read and Review PLEASE! -Sloane

Disclaimer: None of it is mine; even the grammar and spelling. That's all Mollu.


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